Oncoming Storm
by Follow-ur-Shadow
Summary: Tag from 12x08 "Things We Lost in the Fire." After feeling shutout by Owen and betrayed by Meredith, Amelia starts to spiral. Warnings: contains mentions of drug and alcohol abuse. Content could be triggering.
1. Chapter 1

Oncoming Storm

Category: Angst

Pairing: Undecided

Summary: Tag from 12x08 "Things We Lost in the Fire." Amelia dealing with Meredith's honesty and Owen shutting down.

Warnings: Spoilers for 12x08 "Things We Lost in the Fire."

Disclaimer: Own nuda, nothing!

Authors Notes: I'm not going to lie, I took a break from writing Omelia fics because I was getting frustrated with the way their relationship was (wasn't) developing. For every one step forward I felt like they were taking about eight back. But having said that I love Amelia''s character and I'm warming (not sold yet) on the idea of her and Riggs. Please doesn't hate me! Only time will tell ;) Not sure if i'm going to continue this, for the moment it's only planned as a one-shot but I'm always open to feedback! :)

* * *

Somewhere amidst the fog of alcohol, in the back of her mind, she registers that this is _supposed_ to hurt and Owen's words come flooding back to her; _'You're supposed to be feeling it... grief, loss, pain.'_

A laugh bubbles in the back of her throat, weakening until only a hiccup of giggles spill free. He's a hypocrite, spewing morals and righteousness like it's 'normal' to open up and then completely shutting down when things get a little hard for him. Not completely, she reminds herself, recalling the sudden bond that now appears to be Meredith's right.

Because somewhere -on the other-side of the world- there is a women who abandoned everyone and still means more to Owen and Meredith than she ever will.

How's she supposed to compete with that?

It sounds selfish and borderline petty, like a petulant child claiming a stake to schoolyard friends but the Vodka and Tonic takes her side drowning out the rational thoughts creeping in. Who cares if she's lashing out, if she can find a morsel of easy happiness at the bottom of a glass? They can all go to hell. So what if Meredith never speaks to her again or Owen spirals into isolation? The burn in her chest is warm and dependable, wrapping around her like an old blanket and she tilts back on her stool, admiring the twinkling lights until Riggs' upside down head obscures the view.

" _Hey_... easy there, I don't want to have to collect you off the floor. You're the brain surgeon remember?"

"You have no idea *hiccup* how good I _am_ -"

The stool rights itself and her palms catch the bar, knocking over her drink in the process. There's not much left but the ice-cubes topple out and she shakes her hand trying to dry the spray of moisture. "Not at _this_ -" she flashes the bartender an apologetic smile, "this I'm a little _less_ good at."

A low chuckle sounds above her and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, coyly tilting her head up towards Riggs. Despite the circumstances that brought them together the air is playful and it reminds her of how things used to be with Owen, before the fear of intimacy knocked both of their confidence. She'd honestly thought they were moving forward but the last few days have made their interactions seem more and more like the plane crash he warned her about.

"You know what, screw ' _em-_ " there's renewed energy in her posture as she holds his gaze, "they're dark and twisty and we don't need that. I mean look at us, we're awesome."

"Dark and twisty?" A smile tugs his lips as he slides down onto the chair beside her. He barely knows her and they each have their own reasons for being on the out but she's right, screw it. They're having fun and he's enjoying getting to know the enigma that is Doctor Amelia Shepherd. "So what does that make you then... you know, aside from awesome?"

Her cheeks flush but her mouth shows no restraint as she leans into him, " _truth_?"

"Go on-" he urges, resting his elbow on the bar and propping his head up attentively. Whatever her secrets are they drove her into his company tonight and he's strangely protective, already wanting to justify them. "No judgement, I promise."

"I go by hurricane Amy-" she picks up her glass, swirling it despite the fact it's empty, "and for the record, I don't judge either."

They're clearly a little drunk but there's a heat in her gaze that both excites and terrifies him. Maybe she does leave devastation in her wake but he's always been fascinated by the beauty and power of a natural force. "In that case, _Amy-_ " he rolls the name on his tongue deciding it suits her, "would this be the eye of the storm?"

She's ready to answer, prepared to go all in but the moment is stolen by her phone vibrating between them on the bar.

Hunt's number flashes on the caller ID and he instantly tenses despite her reaction being one of indifference. If she's faking it he can't tell and he watches her reject the call, taking it as an invite to brush his hand over her knee, "any chance you want to go somewhere more private? Or have I just ruined my chances with a completely tacky cliche?"

A smile catches her by surprise, distracting her from the unexpected phone call.

Did Owen find out she's homeless? Did Meredith spill the beans or is it completely unrelated? There are too many questions, too many people to worry about and despite Riggs being an easy out he seems like a genuinely nice guy. "I think we should get out of here."

Her phone vibrates again and this time it's Meredith's name that pops up on the caller ID.

Great, so now they all want to jump on the bandwagon.

Determined and adamant, she shoves the device into her pocked offering Riggs a smile. Truth is she'd wanted a reaction from her sister-in-law. That's why she'd pushed despite the women warning her off. She'd been angry about Owen and acting out but her concerns had come from a sincere and honest place.

Derek wouldn't have wanted this.

He would have wanted his wife to move on, to start living her life again and a relapse would hold no weight in the fight she's currently having with Meredith. For once she just wants to take the easy way out and have some fun. "Could be a bumpy ride?"

She stumbles down from the stool, her smile widening as his strong arms latch around her waist.

"I weathered a few storms in my time, seasoned professional." He winks, sliding his hand down to the small of her back but there's a note of hesitation in his tone. He knew what he was getting into by coming here but it was never his intention to drag anyone else down with him.

"Although you might want to reconsider... clearly you're not as unpopular as you think. Sure you want to rock the boat?"

For a split second she almost waivers but the drunk dominant part of her brain wins out. She doesn't want to be strong or better. She wants to feel free and alive, to throw caution to the wind and deal with the repercussions tomorrow. For once she wants to stop living in the shadow of addiction and actually enjoy herself.

"You want to back out?"

"Hell no." The words fall clumsily from his mouth as his hands settle against her hips. She's funny, smart _and_ intelligent. He'd have to be an idiot to say no and he guides her towards the exit, losing himself in the warm inviting sway of her hips.

The cool night air hits his her face and she leads him along the pavement tugging his arms further around her waist. If it was any other night she'd invite him back to hers but being homeless presents a slight problem. "Cab to yours?"

He nods and a weight lifts from her shoulders. It's not that she's using him, she could just as easily go to a hotel for the night but if feels nice, _normal_... and when a yellow car pulls up she doesn't want to leave the safely of his arms. Clearly he's on the same page because he walks her forward, refusing to let go as he pulls the door open.

 _"Amelia!"_

Her heart stops as the familiar voice reverberates through the air and she turns to see Meredith and Owen standing less than a hundred meters away. Her sister-in-law looks furious but that's nothing compared to the pained look on the man beside her and she feels Rigg's tense, his arms instantly dropping as he moves to edge away form her.

Without thinking she reaches for his hand drawing comfort from a rush of adrenaline and alcohol. They've done nothing wrong. She and Owen aren't exclusive and the last time they'd spoke he'd made it perfectly clear he didn't want her around.

"Forget them, let's go."

"You sure?" The words are barely a whisper, his uncertainly fueled by the two people glaring daggers at him but she's adamant and he allows himself to be dragged down into the cab. He has no idea what kind of trouble inviting the dark haired beauty into his life will cause but he gets the distinct feeling that they're definitely not in the eye of a hurricane.

If anything they're driving into an oncoming storm.


	2. Chapter 2

"Owen, leave it."

Meredith grabs his arm preempting the move, torn between a duty to her best friend and an obligation to her deceased husband. Amelia is family but right now she's lashing out and that tips the balance in Cristina's favor, because until her sister-in-law calms down there's no point trying to reason with her. "She'll be okay. We just need to give her some space."

"With _him-"_ the word flies vehemently from his mouth, his gaze glaring daggers at the back of the car. Every fiber of his being wants to go over there and yank Amelia from the vehicle but his concern dampens the anger enough to hold it back. If she feels in control then it could curb the severity of a relapse. "You saw her, she's wasted."

A sigh pulls from Meredith's lips as the cab steers out onto the road. They've all made mistakes, all had a hand in creating a bad situation but at the end of the day they're each responsible for their own decisions including Amelia. "She's not the victim here." It's put bluntly and she winces knowing it's more complicated than that. Alcoholism is a disease but it's not an excuse and there's only so much they can do to help. "I get she's hurting but you're entitled to space and I won't be guilted into betraying anyone's trust, including yours."

He loses sight of the car as it spills into a lane of traffic and regret pulses through his body. He shouldn't have let her go or more importantly he should have realized exactly how much he'd hurt her with his blatant dismissal. He wasn't trying to hide anything. He just needed to get his head together, sort out his emotions before they snowballed but he should have tried to explain himself not snapped every time she approached him. "She wanted to help and I pushed her away."

" _Owen-_ " she draws him back from from the road, hand resting on her hip as his gaze drops to meet her. They've never been particularly close. There's never been a need for it until now but his mother opened up in confidence and like it or not she chose to get involved. "Maybe you could have handled it better but Amelia is lashing out... she's an addict, it's how her brain is wired to respond and that _isn't_ your fault."

Maybe not directly but his actions certainly didn't help and now she's sided with the one person he can't stand. The thought of Riggs getting in first, defending his actions, makes him sick to the stomach and the idea that she would go there -just to piss him off- is equally nauseating.

They've spent months trying to find their feet, navigate around all the hesitation but it always comes back to words neither of them can say. They're not mutually exclusive but if she wants to hit where it hurts, she's doing a damn good job of it.

"Tequila. Shots, on me."

It's the best she has to offer. Maggie is at home with the kids so if Amelia does have the balls to turn up there, with Riggs in toe, a kick of alcohol is a necessity and if she doesn't show... there or at the hospital tomorrow, then her next call is Addison.

And that's a conversation she really doesn't want to be sober for.

..

* * *

..

" _Door._ "

Amelia catches his mouth, hearing the lock click shut behind them. It's not the grandest of hotel rooms but it was closer than his place and in the dim light the spinning walls aren't exactly her first priority. She's drunk, surpassed tipsy about an hour ago but the man groping her arse easily deters the line of thought.

She's allowed to have fun isn't she?

"My turn." Riggs mumbles against her lips sliding his hand round towards the bottle of whiskey but before he can grab it she steals it away, teasingly breaking their kiss to take a drink.

"Hey, brainy... ever heard of sharing?" His voice is husky as he lifts his fingers to brush the hair back from her face. He might be wasted but he doesn't need beer goggles on to know she's stunning. He knew that the second Bailey introduced them, right before Owen showed up.

An anvil sized warning drops from his memory and he hesitates blinking rapidly to try and regain focus. They're drunk - _really_ drunk- but he didn't come here to hurt people, especially someone he used to call a brother.

"Can I, one sec... you and Owen, is there like a thing there cause I-"

Her mouth cuts off the sentence and he wants to drop it, forget he ever mentioned it but his conscious is a persistent bastard and he gently grabs her wrists causing the whiskey to spill over his jeans. It gets her attention and his lips quirk forming an apologetic smile, "sorry, I just.. you've heard the rumors right? I should probably tell you my side of-"

"Do you want to talk about Owen-" she pulls free from his grasp, her fingers playfully toying with the buttons of her shirt, "or do you want to have some fun?"

She's done analyzing and talking things to death. There's still a part of her that's curious but Owen made it abundantly clear that his history with Riggs is personal and this isn't about getting information or taking sides. For one night she wants to be needed, appreciated and when her shirt shimmies to the floor his reaction eases the tight pain in her chest.

"Okay... _wow-_ " it takes his brain a second to catch up and he steals the bottle taking a swig from it to calm his nerves.

Before they were drunk, when it was just two stranger commiserating over a bad day, he'd felt a connection to her but he's suddenly acutely aware of how long it's been since he was intimate with a women he actually liked. They all have their demons, he's no exception... but there's something about her that seems to ward off the darkness. Something he's been searching for without even realizing it.

Consequences can be damned.

She lets out a moan as he pushes her up against the wall, closing her eyes and savoring the feel of his body as it wraps around her. She might be drunk but there's no mistaking the warmth spreading throughout her limbs, the adrenaline that comes with abandoning all inhibitions.

She's not trying to kid anyone, she's missed this. Maybe it's dangerous and stupid but tomorrow is a fresh start.

Day one, again.

..

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 **AN: I decided to keep writing and I have a fair idea of where I want this to go now :) At this stage I'm leaning more towards Riggs/Amelia but there's lots of Owen thrown into the mix.** **Thanks for all the reviews and motivation!**


	3. Chapter 3

The familiar sensation of being hungover hits hard and she shields her eyes against the too bright walls of the hospital. The burn of alcohol and fake pleasantries of drunk sex lodge in her throat, drying it out like a desert and she swallows roughly trying to ignore the pounding in her head. Riggs is behind her somewhere styling out their arrival together and she doesn't have the heart to tell him it's probably pointless.

Nine missed calls from Owen, five from Maggie two from Edwards and even one from Richard.

The rumor mill can go to hell along with her sobriety.

Maybe she should have warned Riggs about the reception, at least mentioned her problem with alcohol... but it was her decision to drink. Nobody forced her hand and if it weren't for him she'd probably still be curled on the bathroom floor hugging the toilet seat. No matter what his differences are with Owen she can't fault him. He was a perfect gentleman and she swallows down another wave of bile, feeling embarrassment flush her features. Last night she felt sexy and confident. Now all she wants to do is crawl into a dark hole, forget about the world and everyone in it.

Something she fully intends to do.

Right after she hands in in her resignation to Bailey.

This was supposed to be a fresh start. A different city, new hospital... but ever since Derek died she's been living her brothers life and it's becoming abundantly clear she can't even get that right. Meredith wants to disown her, Owen doesn't want anything do with her and even 'Perfect Penny' has managed to make a place for herself despite being responsible for her brothers death.

His ghost is a constant reminder of her failures, haunting her day in and day out but not anymore. She wants out of Grey-Sloane Memorial and running seems like the fastest most painless option.

" _Amelia_ -"

Maggie's arm shoots out catching her before she can veer, her expression one of fierce determination. Any other day she might have been receptive but right now all she wants to do is bail.

"Are you okay, where were you last night?"

It's a simple question but the answer that falls out of her mouth is deliberately ambiguous. "I was out."

Eyes start to draw in on their conversation and she shifts impatiently. At the end of the day Maggie is _Meredith's_ sister and if she has to pick sides she will. That's how families work. It's not her fault but it's tunneling into a jump or be pushed situation and the cleaner the break the better. "Is that it?"

"No its not." There's an edge of frustration to her voice as she tugs the neurosurgeon away from the crowded area. Her cheeks are unnaturally pale, sunken beneath dark circles and if the physical hints aren't enough to cause concern then her attitude definitely is. "Amelia, you can talk to me. You know that right?"

She wants to laugh but stops herself swallowing the bitter sound. It's not funny or at least it shouldn't be.

"I didn't go 'home' because I was kicked out or did Meredith forget to mention that when she was singing my praises?" It's a cheap shot but she doesn't care, pulling her arm free and readjusting the strap over her shoulder. She wasn't there but she can imagine how the conversation played out.

"Look I get it." Maggie winces as soon as the words leave her mouth. She grew up an only child but all that time alone left her wondering about siblings and a vivid imagination helped her navigate through plenty of made-up sisterly arguments. "What I mean is you're both strong willed. You said things you didn't mean but it's fixable and if you were drinking that's okay too, a slip doesn't-"

"I need to go see Bailey." She snaps the dismissal feeling a wave of regret but it's not enough to make her turn back around. It's not up to anyone to justify or excuse her behavior and she's terrified that an ounce of understanding will unravel her.

It's her life.

Her choices.

Jump... or be pushed.

..

* * *

..

The hum of gossip buzzes around the floor making Riggs feel uneasy but he keeps his head down trying to stay focused. What he gets up to in his personal life is his own damn business. Well, it should be but the atmosphere takes another dive as Meredith saddles up beside him. She's kept her distance for a reason making it perfectly clear where her loyalties lie and the intimidating approach is obvious and impossible to ignore.

"Doctor Grey, can I help you with something?"

"She's my sister-in-law." It's spoken almost begrudgingly but she doesn't falter, keeping up the facade of shuffling paperwork. "Owen is my best friends ex-wife. I don't know why you're here but there are lines and if you want this to work, you need to back off."

It's a blatant threat and he draws himself up straighter preparing to defend himself. He has a history with Hunt, one he's here to try and fix but the sudden arrival of Pierce and the slight shake of her head makes him hesitate. Aside from Amelia, she's the only person who hasn't been judgmental and he instinctively holds backs out of respect. "Doctor Shepherd and I were blowing off some steam, that's it. I honestly wasn't trying to offend anyone."

"She's an alcoholic." Meredith flinches as Maggie shoots her a look and pulls her lips together throwing back a 'what?' expression. It's not exactly a secret but her sister's glare is enough to spark a tiny wave of guilt. "You wanted me to care I do, she's family... so he needs to know that she hasn't touched a drink in nearly three years."

" _Shit-_ " he curses, visibly paling as the ramifications of their night together fully hit home. It was supposed to be a bit of fun, both of them letting loose after a crappy day. How the hell was he supposed to know she's a recovering alcoholic? "Look... I swear I had no idea," he holds his hands up defensively, "is she okay?"

For a second she almost feels bad but just because he has a conscious, that doesn't make him a good person. After all there's a reason Owen doesn't trust him. "You spent the night with her. You tell us?"

He shakes his head, his mind going back over the details but before he can come up with an answer goosebumps shiver along his skin. He's knows he's being watched and glances up catching Amelia's gaze at the end of the hall. She looks exhausted, mortified and he instantly forgets about everything else. All he wants to do is comfort her despite Meredith's warning.

..

Amelia holds his gaze, standing motionless as she reads the situation. It's obvious both Meredith and Maggie have been in his ear no doubt warning him off and anger surges through her body spiking her adrenaline. She keeps trying to convince herself she doesn't want anything to do with this place or the people in it but Bailey refused her resignation and as much as she wants to speak her mind, technically she still works here.

A temporary leave of absence.

Either the hospital considers her skills too much of an asset to lose or Richard has been in Miranda's ear, something she finds far more likely. He's a good man but the words 'take some time' and 'don't do anything rash' sound more condescending than anything.

" _Amelia?_ "

A voice at the other end of the hall steals her attention and she shifts her gaze from Riggs to Owen. He's approaching slowly but she feels like a deer trapped in headlights, not sure whether to freeze or run.

"Can we talk?"

He closes in and her gaze darts back to Maggie and Meredith who have conveniently busied themselves. A few days ago she wanted to talk, to offer herself as a sounding board and actually have an adult conversation but his easy tone makes her feel like a charity case. He should be angry and the fact he isn't makes her stiffen as he closes the gap between them. "About what?"

The question feels like a knife to his gut and he hesitates no longer sure how to approach the situation. They've always had an unspoken connection, a relationship that doesn't necessarily need reassurance but shutting her out was a mistake. He wants to hate her for turning to Riggs but he can't, his concern outweighing right or wrong. "Are you okay?"

A strangled laugh catches in her throat, adding more awkwardness the silence. This shouldn't be about her but clearly the whole knight in shining amour routine is more important than actually opening up and talking about the real issue. "I'm fine, I'm good... great even."

"That's not-"

" _Don't_." She finds her confidence, holding up her arms and motioning for him to stop. She doesn't want special treatment, false pretenses or people walking around her on eggshells and she _really_ doesn't want to have to explain herself. Why should she, when no one else ever does? "Sorry, I guess I just don't feel the need to talk everything to death like you do."

The malice is deliberate and she bites her lip at the hurt expression that crosses his face but she won't apologize. They were his words, they hurt her first and she's just doing what she needs to do to protect herself. "You want to talk, I'm sure Meredith is all ears."

She doesn't wait to hear his response, doesn't need to give weight to the notion that she's being childish. She tried, she honestly wanted something more for them but the bitter sting of rejection is still too raw to ignore. Bailey gave her an out and she's taking it.

Her choice.


	4. Chapter 4

Riggs hesitates for all of three seconds before Maggie's subtle nod once again spurs him into action. Clearly neither Owen or Meredith are going after Amelia and maybe it's not his place but he helped cause the situation and he's not about to let her face it alone.

"Amy, wait!" He catches up to her just shy of the entrance to the hospital, tearing a hand up through his hair as he falls into step beside her, "where are you going?"

She doesn't know and the truth slams her, causing her hands to shake as they force open the glass doors. The second she steps outside it feels like she can breathe again but she doesn't slow down, using the rail to propel her escape up the ramp. "Anywhere but here."

He chaises after her nearly slamming into her back when she stops suddenly turning around to face him. He's about to apologize, worried he's overstepped the mark, but she looks more confused than angry and he holds his ground. "If you're leaving then I'm coming with you."

"You can't, you're on shift."

She has a point but Bailey's hardly going to punish him for trying to help and even if she does it's a risk he's willing to take. He's pissed off everybody else what's one more added to the list. "That's my problem, not yours." Surprise flickers across her face and his expression softens as he lightly grasps her elbow, "why didn't you tell me?"

"What, that I'm an addict?" She pulls back crossing her arms defensively over her chest. He has no reason to be here or to care and she tries to squash down the voice reminding her that they actually had a good time last night. Maybe if she was normal and well adjusted she _might_ have said something but her problems aren't his burden to wear. "Sorry my bad. I keep forgetting to wear my AA t-shirt and matching cap."

"Cool, what color?" The retort is quick off his tongue provoking the smallest of smiles and his own lips curve up in response.

It's not much but it's better than a slap in the face and he hesitantly reaches out to brush her fingers. It's a bold move but she eventually lets her arms drop allowing them to join hands. "Seriously I'm not judging. I know what it's like to feel cut off, I just want to make sure you're okay."

" _Why_?" His concern sounds genuine but she's not that naive. There could be a hundred reasons he's interested... something Meredith said, a family member or friend who's an alcoholic, a guilty conscious or he could simply be playing her. She doesn't know the first thing about him and even though her instincts are telling her he's worried, she doesn't trust those right now either. "We slept together, last time I checked you didn't sign up for crazy drama."

"I agreed to work with Hunt, crazy drama is kind of my thing at the moment." It's not far from the truth but honestly he has no idea what he's doing. His brain is telling him to run a hundred miles in the opposite direction, to stay well away from the hassle but he knows what she's going through. Maybe not with the alcohol stuff but isolation feels the same no matter which brush it's painted with and he gets that more than most. "I don't know what you're going through or what you've been through-" he admits breathing out a sigh, "and I don't know what this is but if nothing else, I'd like to be a friend. I think we could both probably do with one at the moment."

She wants to feel relieved but the offer of friendship catches her off guard expanding in her chest until it hurts to breathe. She's been here before, vulnerable, on the brink of spiraling and last time she allowed herself trust someone.

She fell in love.

And he died.

She lost a fiancée and a baby and all this time she _thought_ she was dealing with it, that she was moving on, but maybe the walls were just going up higher and stronger. "I can't do this."

" _Hey,_ it's okay-" he keeps his voice low as he gently squeezes her shoulder, "you can talk to me."

There's moisture dampening her cheeks but his thumb catches it before she can wipe it away, stirring up even more uncertainty.

She can't talk to him because if she does he'll become a statistic. Another person who dies in a robbery or a hotel room or a car accident... or he'll end up walking away and not giving a crap. She's seen what's out there and alone really is better.

"I have to go." She tears away from him and this time the finality in her tone keeps him from following. It's better this way and she doesn't look back, pulling out her phone to flirt with the danger of temptation.

Owen was wrong.

She doesn't have to feel anything.


	5. Chapter 5

Owen strides in front of her again and Meredith sighs barely lifting her head from the tablet she's studying to call him on the nervous movement. They're both worried but the irritation worming beneath her skin means she can't bring herself to flounce. Amelia is an addict and as much as she tries to sympathize there are times - _like now_ \- she simply can't justify her sister-in-laws behavior.

"Stop pacing."

He stops but only long enough to shake his head before automatically propelling forward again. "She tried to resign." He's barely three steps in before he turns back around, his fingers landing on the desk and tapping it impatiently. If Bailey's worried then they should be too.

"She's acting out that's all it is." Her voice is confident but there's doubt in her mind that she's forced to squash down. Amelia can be rash and unpredictable but she's also handled herself with more strength than Derek ever gave her credit for. After everything they've been through she wants to believe that this isn't the beginning of a downward spiral. "You saw what happened last night, let's just give her some time to cool off."

There's an air of hesitation between the trio and Maggie interjects her instincts siding with Owen, "what if what you saw was her relapsing?" She's treated numerous drug addicts and alcoholics in the past, most of whom were well respected professionals, and the women she spoke to today wasn't the same person she's been living with for months. Something was definitely wrong.

Meredith abandons the tablet lifting her full attention to the group, "that doesn't mean she's going to go completely off the the rails." She's met with another tense silence but it doesn't sway her opinion. People slip up, it happens but jumping on the worst case scenario bandwagon isn't going to help. "Besides we can't just drop everything. We have jobs remember?

A cough sounds behind them and she immediately stiffens at the interruption. To his credit Riggs keeps his voice low and calm, his hand brushing up through his hair as he closes the gap between himself and Owen.

"Hey... um, can we talk?"

Anger seethes through his body and he clenches his jaw feeling the muscles spasm. He doesn't want to hear about the encounter with Amelia, doesn't want to know what happened because from what they saw there's no room for misinterpretation. "You need to stay the hell away from me." It's adamant and final, the words slicing through the air between them, "I don't want to talk, I don't want to _look_ at you and if you ever go near Amelia again-"

"I'm worried about her." Riggs holds his ground flinching as he squares his shoulders. He can take another hit, getting decked is the last thing he's worried about.

"Why?" He almost laughs but the sound curdles in his throat, "because you got an alcoholic drunk?" It's a cheap shot but he doesn't care. The man has caused enough pain to last a lifetime and he'll be damned if he's going to let Amelia become a casualty.

"You're seriously going to blame me for this?" His own anger flares surprising him even though it's a case of history repeating itself all over again. Another blame game but he's not going to take it, not this time. "Why don't we talk about the reason she was drinking in the first place?"

"You son of a-"

"Okay _enough!_ " Meredith silences them only just resisting the urge to throw her tablet down in between the pair. They can stand here all day and argue but it won't change anything and it's certainly not going to help the situation. "Amelia's a grown women, she makes her own choices and until she's ready to ask for help there's nothing we can do. We don't even know where she's staying..."

"I do." Riggs scratches the side of his face doing everything he can to avoid sounding smug. It isn't about who's wrong or right, it's about helping out a friend and he swallows his anger trying to revert back to the peaceful approach he was attempting. "I was going to go check in on her, I can wait if you want to come with me?"

"No." Owen's adamant, snapping the response as he squares off against the man. "This has absolutely _nothing_ to do with you. I am not going to let you-"

"Let me?" He throws up his hand incredulously, "right now I'm your best chance of-"

"I'll go." Maggie jumps in, the words casting a strained silence over the group. She hates the fighting and awkwardness but getting involved seems like it's the only way to avoid an all out brawl. "My shift is ending... we'll check on her and I'll call once we know everything's okay."

The plan is met by a reluctant grunt as Owen storms off and she winces as Meredith rolls her eyes before following after him. The only person who seems vaguely at ease with the idea is Riggs and she offers him a tight smile, "give me ten and I'll meet you out front."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hi all! Thank you for the feedback and sorry for the shortness of chapters. I will try to get them up as quickly as I can :) I've added a warning to the summary but wanted to include it here as well. This and future chapters will contain mentions of drug and alcohol abuse. Thanks again for reading xx**

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Amelia sits cross-legged on the mattress clasping an unopened bottle of whiskey as she stares at the bag of pills on the bedside table. She's torn between right and wrong but at the same time she's not even sure there's a difference anymore. To come this far and for _what_? To end up back at the same place... scared and alone with no idea how she got here or how to climb back out of the darkness.

She can hear the couple next door making full use of the cheap hotel room but the sound doesn't bother her. It's comforting to know that there are people out there alive and enjoying themselves. She used to be like that but now she's just exhausted, weighed down by the easy option laid out in front of her. Everyday she tries to help other people, to fix them... isn't she allowed a reprieve from the grieving and fighting?

Doesn't she deserve that much?

A shudder works its way down her spine as she holds the bottle, flashes of her intervention in Los Angeles flooding her memory. She had a family there and does at Grey Sloane Memorial but it's different here, harder and if she gets out now she can do it without dragging anyone else down with her.

She can run and never look back.

Despite the firm resolution she glances at the phone sat next to the pills on the table. She could ask for help... if not from Owen or Meredith then from Maggie or Richard. Out of everyone he's the most likely to understand. She could even call Addison or Charlotte but that won't quieten the thoughts spinning around her head and she'll still be left with the one thing she's afraid of the most.

 _Herself_.

A sob catches in her throat and she smothers it with her hand, stealing the moment to calm herself and shutdown the spiraling fear.

It isn't real.

On some level she knows that.

It's a combination of relapsing and insomnia, her body struggling to keep up with a lack of sleep and nutrition. She can't even remember the last time she ate actual food and her stomach rumbles in protest but leaving the room feels like an impossible mission. She doesn't want to eat and she has everything she needs to sleep right here begging to be opened.

If she can silence the thoughts -just for a little while- then everything will be okay.

Without realizing it, the cap to the whiskey is suddenly in her hand and she takes a swig drowning out the doubts. As expected they fade with every sip and she swallows the comfort, her eyes drawing to the drugs that will make the rest of the pain go away.

She's already got one foot out the door and she honestly doesn't know if she has the strength to stay.

Or if she even cares anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

"Amelia, it's Maggie." She draws her hand back waiting nervously as the knock goes unanswered. The receptionist confirmed she was still staying here but so far all they've been met with is silence and she winces as Riggs pounds the door. "She could be in the shower... or out taking a walk?" Her voice lifts at the end, implying the suggestions even though they're flimsy at best. "I'll try calling again."

She pulls out her phone and he gives it one more go, his fist connecting with the splintering paint job. "Amy, if you're in there we just want to make sure you're okay?" He leans against the frame, almost positive he can hear someone start to move inside. " _Wait_ -" he nudges Maggie's arm down, straining to catch the muted shuffle coming from inside, "there's definitely some-"

A loud thud cuts him off and he swallows roughly trying to place the noise. It sounded like a body hitting the floor and he doesn't hesitate, forcefully slamming his shoulder against the door

"Whoa! What are you doing?" She jumps back, nearly dropping her phone as she debates whether or not to try and stop him. If Amelia's in trouble then they need to get inside but they could also just go downstairs and ask for a key.

"Come on," he justifies the action, twisting the knob and trying again, "it's not exactly the Hilton."

"That's not the-" she finches as the lock splinters apart, causing the door to swing open and reveal Amelia's prone from sprawled out on the floor. It takes her a second to react but Riggs is already moving faster than she can keep up with.

He drops to his knees, his hand instinctively searching for the deft beat below her neck. It's weak but steady and he glances up as Maggie's voice draws his attention to the night-stand. There's half a bottle of whiskey open but it's the bag of pills on the side that propel his concern. "Oxy?" He doesn't know much about her past, only what he learnt in the car, but he's thankful for the information because right now she needs him to be a doctor not a friend.

She picks up the bag, fingers shaking as she reads the small markings on the pills. It's not a hard symbol to forge and if they were bought on the street they could be cut with anything. "I don't think she got them from the hospital."

He shifts his attention back to the unconscious women trying to get her to stir, " _Amy..._ come on wake up _._ "

She moans at the intrusion struggling to sit and he helps her up, moving the hair to get a better look at her face. When her eyelids eventually flutter open she's barely recognizable and he's taken aback by her pale skin and pinpoint pupils. She might be completely out of it but he knows she's in there somewhere. Whatever drove her to this he's not the kind of person to pass judgment, not without knowing all the facts. "Amelia listen to me... how much did you take?"

She fumbles for the material of his shirt wanting to keep herself upright while the room spins violently around them. It's a question she can't answer, the fire in her brain preventing coherent thoughts, and even though she tries her words come out as a slurred mumble.

He catches her before she topples forward again, his arm latching around her waist and drawing her against his chest. She feels hot against his skin and he finds Maggie's concerned gaze, urging her to call for help, "pulse is weak and she's burning up... we need to call an ambulance."

Amelia shakes her head trying to fight his hold but he doesn't let go. "Not Grey-Sloane, ask for Chelsea State." The words seem to calm her but Pierce hesitates making him rethink the decision. Amelia needs support but if they break her trust now it could ruin any chance they have of helping her. "I know the guys there, they'll take care of her."

She reads between the lines and dials the number regardless of her own doubts. Meredith is going to be livid but they don't have time to weigh up the pros and cons of where to take her. "Hello, yes... I need an ambulance-"

The conversation disappears into the background and Riggs forces down another wave of concern. Even though she's still sweating he can feel Amelia's temperature starting to drop and he knows that isn't a good sign.

"Amy, _hey_... stay with me-" he jostles her again trying to support her weight as Pierce finishes relaying the situation over the phone. Chelsea state is an extra five minutes away and he hopes to god they're making the right call.

"Ambulance is eight minutes out." She shoves the cell in her pocket willing herself to stay calm and think. They need to buy some time and if possible get the drugs out of her system. "Ipecac-" she says suddenly, "they might have some in the kitchen."

He's about to tell her to go when Amelia's breathing becomes labored, the short desperate gasps sounding almost painful and he lays her quickly on her side. A blue tinge has already started painting her lips which means it's too late to induce vomiting, their only option is to keep her breathing until the paramedics arrive. "We don't have time, she's going into respiratory failure."

The scratchy rasp turns Maggie's stomach and she drops to her knees forcing herself to be a doctor first and a sister second.

"Amelia, it's okay. You're going to be fine but I need you to take slow deep breaths okay?" Her hand flails and Maggie reaches out catching it, giving it a tight squeeze, "I'm right here, just focus on my voice and stay with me." She lifts her head, keeping her voice low as she angles it towards Riggs, "you can do a field tracheotomy right?"

He winces at the question, not because he can't but because he's _really_ hoping it isn't going to come to that. "Used a rock and two sticks once, guy made a full recovery." She nods a sort of approval and he glances around the room looking for something to use when he spots the small kitchenette in the corner.

" _Swap_ -" he shuffles back allowing her to take his place as he pushes off the ground. There's no cutlery at the sink just a ballpoint pen in the draw which is useless if he can't find anything to make the incision.

"Riggs!"

He spins at the panicked tone, his stomach clenching as he watches Pierce start CPR. They're out of time and he rushes into the bathroom scanning the small space and spotting a disposable razor on the counter. "I think I've got something!" He grabs the item, slicing his hand as he works the blade out but it's a trivial wound and he ignores it as he races back to them. "You sure about this?"

"Give it a second-" she pushes down on Amelia's chest silently begging her sister to respond. Even though it's a relatively simple procedure she doesn't want to make the incision unless it's absolutely necessary. "Come on!" She repeats the process two more times preparing to call it when a strained cough suddenly breaks the silence, followed by the sound of sirens in the distance.

Riggs tears a hand up through his hair as the noise from the ambulance draws closer. It's clear she's a fighter. All she has to do is hold on a little bit longer because if she doesn't make it he's not sure he'll be able to forgive himself. Even though his actions weren't directly responsible they didn't help the situation... but regardless of the fact, he suspects Hunt will kill him long before guilt does anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

Owen's concern is stunted by his anger, both barely even dented as he takes a swing at Riggs in the lobby of the hospital. He has no idea why they brought Amelia to Chelsea State or why Pierce waited so long to call but Meredith's firm grip and the reassurance that she's fine does nothing to calm him down. It would have taken an extra ten minutes to re-route the ambulance here, what if something had happened in that time?

"Would someone please explain what the hell is going on _,_ " he shakes himself free of Meredith's grip, still seething and it's only a side-eye from security that urges him to stand down. "I want to see her."

"They let us monitor and her vitals are getting stronger but she's lucky, it could have been a lot worse... maybe now isn't-"

" _Maggie_." It's Meredith who issues the warning, keeping a close vigil by Owen's side. She doesn't want to be in this situation anymore than he does and Amelia probably doesn't want to see either of them but at the end of the day they're family and this was more than just Derek's younger sister acting out for attention. How much more she's not sure but the question needs to be asked. "You guys should go. They're short at the hospital so if you can, I'm sure Bailey would appreciate the help."

Maggie shifts awkwardly feeling Riggs tense beside her. It's clear he wants to argue and she's hesitant to leave as well but fighting isn't going to help anyone and the tremulous silence makes the decision for her. "Down the hall in 18c- "

Owen starts in the direction of her room and Meredith abandons the pair so she can catch up to him. He barely said two words on the way over and charging into the room is only going to make things worse. "Hey, _wait-_ " she grabs his arm again, pulling him to a stop. She gets it. He's scared and angry, they both are... but there's only one way to approach the situation and that's calmly.

"Look we can't go in there guns blazing. Sit down, take a few minutes and I'll let her know we're here." The uncertainty in his expression betrays the concern hiding behind his anger and she takes a deep breath giving his arm a gentle squeeze, "Owen listen to me... she's okay but if you want to help her, you need to get it together."

He swallows roughly lifting his gaze up to the ceiling. He knows his emotions are all over the place but he has no idea how he's supposed to be feeling, which is why he agrees to let her take the lead and drops down into the plastic waiting chair.

His silence isn't the white flag of surrender she was hoping for but she accepts it and takes the last few steps to Amelia's room, slowly pushing the door open. It's quiet, save for the soft beat of the heart monitor and she hesitantly moves inside.

" _Amelia_?"

Her back is facing the opposite wall and Meredith pads around the bed, her voice hitching as she meets her sister's dull and defeated gaze. It's so empty, void of emotion and she instinctively squares her shoulders in response, "you're awake, _good_... how are you feeling?"

"Great." The word feels heavy and she can't find the strength to say any more. She screwed up. She doesn't need anyone reminding her of that and the last thing she needs is forced pity from someone who's only here because of a twisted sense of obligation.

A sigh draws from Meredith's lips as she picks up the chart by the end of the bed. Maggie wasn't downplaying the situation and fear balls itself in the pit of her stomach. If they hadn't found her when they did the outcome would have been a very different phone call. "I want to be angry. I want to yell at you, tell you this was stupid and selfish-" she doesn't sugarcoat the truth as she returns the chart, "but I want to do that _because_ I love you."

Silence fills the space between them and she moves to the chair next to the bed, scrubbing a hand up through her hair as she sits down. "I didn't get to pick you, so no... it's not the same as it is with Cristina but that doesn't mean I don't care about you."

Nausea rolls through Amelia's stomach and she curls up tighter wishing she could close her eyes and disappear. She doesn't know how to defend herself, to justify her actions because she can't. What she did was stupid, it was embarrassing but she doesn't have the energy to engage fake pleasantries. "You don't owe me anything Meredith. I'm Derek's sister and he's gone, I get it."

"Stop it-" she bites her tongue, knowing that the situation is partially her fault as well. As much as she wants to deny it there have been times when she's considered their relationship a duty. Derek is gone and she has a lousy track record of being a sister but they are still family. "I said things I didn't mean. I was angry and maybe you were right... you do remind me of him. You see things in black and white, just like he did and it is hard-" she steals a deep breath, leaning forward in the chair, "but that has nothing to do with Owen."

The tension in the room is palpable and she rolls her head to side trying to find the words to explain. It's not just about loyalty or her tentative friendship with the man but in hindsight maybe she should have tried to make her opinion clearer. "I _don't_ like the idea of you two together. I saw what that relationship she did to Cristina, it nearly ruined both of them and she's strong-"

"Stronger than _me_?" The insinuation is blunt and catches in her throat, "that's not fair, you cant just-"

"I'm not saying you're not strong." Meredith holds up a hand defensively, "I know how hard it can be, how much strength it takes just to wake up some mornings-"

The admission is raw, somethings she's learnt from experience but she forces herself to rise above the pain because as much as they'd both like to believe otherwise, they're not that dissimilar from each other. "We've both lost people we care about. The men we loved, a child, parents, friends, siblings... it all chips away until all you have left is putting one foot in front of the other. The only problem is we do that in very different ways. I love you but I don't always know how to deal with you."

It's a backhanded compliment but at the same time it helps to ease the weight that's been crushing her chest. She doesn't want to play games or hold grudges but it's still only a small level of understanding and she doesn't know how they're supposed to move forward.

Meredith catches the doubt in her gaze, the emotion that's fighting to break through and she lets her mouth pull into a slight smile. "Derek and I promised to love each other even when we hated each other... if we can do that, we can figure the rest out."

She nods, knowing it's not going to be an easy road back for either of them but still willing to give it a try. They both said hurtful things but the fact Meredith's here - _trying_ \- says a lot. In fact, it means everything. "Thank you-" her tone is soft, warmer and she blinks back the emotion burning her eyes, "and I'm sorry what for what I said, it wasn't fair."

It's a genuine apology but she's not ready to hash up the conversation again, not yet. They've covered enough ground to start mending fences and she glances across to the door, hesitation knotting in her throat as she addresses her next concern. "Owen's here."

The words cause Amelia's stomach to drop and uncertainty clouds her response. She could wait to see him... until she's stronger, more sure of herself but whether it's tomorrow, in a few days or even a few weeks eventually she's going to have to face him.

" _Okay_."

Meredith takes the answer as approval and closes her hands around the chair to push herself up. She isn't sure it's a good idea but at the end of the day it isn't her call and she braces herself, knowing there's still one more question she needs to ask before she can leave the room. "What happened earlier-" she pauses for a beat, the words catching in her throat, "...how worried do I need to be?"

The serious tone makes Amelia instinctively want to deflect and an awkward half-laugh spills from her lips, "they cleared me to use the plastic knives if that's what you mean? Don't worry, I'm not a danger to myself."

Meredith doesn't react to the humor, needing to hear the truth no matter how hard it is for them both to say out loud. "So you weren't trying to-"

"I wasn't." Amelia cuts her off but hesitates not sure how to answer the question. She could lie and claim it was an accident or a bad batch of pills, because honestly that's closer to the truth than saying it was intentional. She was hammered and for a few seconds -somewhere within the drug induced haze- she let herself stop caring. It was weak and stupid but it wasn't deliberate. "I just needed a minute to catch my breath, that's all it was."

Meredith nods, accepting the answer because it's all she can do. From here on in it's about making sure a support system is in place and if she can't do it alone she'll find a way to make it happen.

Even if that means calling Addison.


	9. Chapter 9

Owen wipes his palms nervously as he pushes on the door, Meredith's warning playing softly in the back of his mind.

Amelia's still the same person but right now she's mentally and physically vulnerable. He's seen hints of it before but the doubt has always been mirrored by her strength and he knows this time it's different. She didn't just have a bad turn. She relapsed, nearly overdosed and guilt weighs heavily on his shoulders as he enters the room.

She's facing him but her eyes are dull, her face pale and withdrawn against the crisp sheets and he takes a deep breath as he moves further into the space. He still doesn't know what to say, whether to act on his angry or succumb to his concern but rather than make a decision he perches on the side of the bed letting her frailty wash over him. It hits hard but there are also traces of stubbornness locking her jaw and he knows she isn't broken, just fragmented. She's hurting and he moves his hand up to brush her cheek trying to fight the barriers between them.

A tired sigh pulls from her lips and she tentatively leans into the touch, closing her eyes at the peace offering. She wants to believe it means something but all it does is land them right back where they started. Two people who can connect but can't seem to function on a basic level.

"I don't know if I can do this any more."

The words cut straight through and he instinctively pulls back, tearing the hand up through his hair. He doesn't know if she's talking about her relapse or them but the hollowness in her voice scares him and he needs to ask the question even if he's the one who ends up broken. "I want to make this right Amelia... but I don't know what to do, if you even want my help?"

She draws her focus to the middle of the room avoiding the concern pooling in his worried gaze. It's the same face she wore when she was pleading not to be shut out and now she can't afford the luxury of giving in. They both care, that's not the problem but they keep hurting each other and she doesn't have the energy to fight it anymore.

"I made a bad decision-" she hesitates, willing the tension out of her voice. It doesn't matter what happened yesterday or how they ended up here, she needs to focus all her strength on recovery. "It's under control, I'm handling it."

The dismissal feels like a form of punishment and he shifts, breathing out a sigh as he moves from the mattress to the chair. He's not completely innocent and his refusal to accept help nearly cost him his job but that's nothing compared to what she could have lost. "So you're allowed to make a mistake but I'm not, is that it?" It sounds petty and he scrubs his face trying to ease into the approach, "I shut you out and I'm sorry... but I'm here, we can talk about this but you need to-"

" _What_?" She snaps the question, blinking back the moisture burning behind her gaze. It's not about being stubborn or difficult. She wants to find a way to make them work but after everything they've been through -all the false starts- she doesn't know if that's possible anymore. "I keep thinking it's worth it, that what we're doing means something but whatever we're doing it shouldn't be _this_ hard."

The truth slams him and the instinct to fight rushes through his body. She's right they're supposed to be more than this, more than just a causal throw-away fling but the unspoken words they relied on in the beginning have become a weight that's slowly crushing them. He doesn't want to lose her but he doesn't know how to fix something that was broken to start with.

" _Amelia_..." his voice cracks, his eyes filled with defeat as they drop to the floor, "I am so sorry."

There's no malice only regret and she nods biting her lip to keep the tears from falling. If she cries now... if she thinks about what they're letting go she'll try to hold on and it will ruin them. "Me too." The words are shaky and she steals a deep breath willing herself to believe they're doing the right thing.

He lifts his head swallowing the lump in his throat. Even though they were never technically in a relationship it still feels like a breakup but deep down he knows giving it time is the only way for them to move forward.

"I should..." he stops, unable to force himself to go. Even though he needs to he can't leave things like this. Not after everything that's happened. "It doesn't matter, this thing whatever it is... I will always be here. I'm always going to care about you."

She draws in a sharp breath and before she can stop herself reaches for his hand. She doesn't want it to end but they can't keep doing this to each other. If they don't draw the line now it's only going to get harder and she tries to pull away but he's quicker catching her fingers in his grasp. The silence stretches between them and he brushes his thumb over her palm, stealing the moment to be completely honest with her. "You scared me Amelia... I mean you _really_ scared me. When they called I thought-"

"I know." Embarrassment flushes her cheeks and she swallows a wave of nausea. She doesn't want to be here again, hurting people and ruining them. She thought she could run. That if she got far enough away it wouldn't matter but the only person she really wanted to escape from was herself. "I didn't want this to happen-" she draws in a rough hitch of air, "I wasn't trying to be selfish. I didn't want anyone else to get hurt."

"It's okay." He knows it's the truth, in the same way he thought shutting her out would protect her from his past. They're both damaged and he hates that their first instinct is to pull away but he gets it. What he doesn't understand is how she thought no one would care. "If this happened because... if I made you feel-"

"You didn't." She cuts him off, trying to ease his guilt but the lie weighs heavily between them. "I mean you _did,_ sort of but this-" she waves her hand at the situation, "this is all me. World renowned neurosurgeon and total screw up."

The flicker of stubbornness behind her sarcasm is a reminder of her strength and he shakes his head softly, "don't say that. We all screw up but those mistakes don't have to define us."

"The shouldn't Riggs get a second chance?" She's not deliberately trying to provoke him and they way he tenses makes her almost regret the comment but the man saved her life. The least she can do is try to make Owen see that.

"It's different." The response is short, not because he doesn't owe her the truth but because now really isn't the time. She needs stability and not more doubt surrounding the people in her life. Especially if one of those people is Nathan. "You're right... you deserve an explanation-" he stops for a beat willing her understand, "but it shouldn't be like this, not _here._ "

The plea is soft and she nods her head trying to convince herself it isn't an empty promise. She wants to trust him and maybe she can... but she needs to learn how to trust herself again first. "You should probably... I mean, I'm sure you have rounds and-"

" _Yeah_." He agrees, but only because he knows it's what she needs right now. Otherwise he'd tell her that she's more important. That he'll be in the waiting room because he can't stomach the idea of leaving her alone. He wants to say it out loud but he doesn't. Instead he gives her hand a quick squeeze silently hoping he'll catch a hint of regret in her gaze but she keeps her emotions masked and he breaths out a sigh as he stands up, "get some rest, okay?"

She attempts a smile, feeling relieved when he accepts it with a small one of his own.

It isn't much but right now it's all she's got.

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 **AN: Thanks again for all the reviews! :D I'm going to be wrapping this up soon but I'm mulling over the ending so let me know if there's anything you want to read. Love and cookies! xXx**


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